I Swear It Wasn't Me!
by Catching A Common Cold
Summary: 84:I am not allowed to lock Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in a closet to see if hot gay sex will occur. a list of 150 things that shouldn't but have been done at Hogwarts. All generation, enjoy.
1. Starting Message

_**150 things I won't do at Hogwarts.**_

_**This is something I found on the internet and decided to give it a try. For those on my author alert, I'm an extremely sorry for the amount of chapters that are sure to come through but it can't really be help.**_

_**A quick thank to Rumer, who helped me somewhere in all this, though I have no idea where, I just know she did.**_

_**Also, this is will be a cross between Marauders Era, the Golden Trio Era and Next Generation. Different characters will be used throughout the story, and each chapter will be relatively short.**_

_**Please Rate and Review, as I'd like to see which ones you enjoy and which ones you don't.**_

_**One more thing, they won't always be in order and I might not update for ages. **_

_**Thanks,**_

_**Morgan **_


	2. 150

**(Sirius Black – Marauders Era) **

**150. Getting everyone in the Great Hall to do the Time Warp will not earn me any house points.**

"Hey! Move over, you're on my foot!"

"I am not, you buffoon, that's Marlene."

"Peter! Stop doing that, you're going to poke someone's eye out!"

"Was it really necessary to turn out the lights? I'm sure she will get a big enough fright once she sees us-"

"Remus, shut up and stop complaining, honestly."

"Lucius, get your bloody hands off of my-"

"Oh, can everyone just shut up a bit? I'm getting a headache from all this whispering."

"How the hell do you get a headache from whispering? There's no noise-"

"SHHHH!" The great Hall suddenly quietened as footsteps were heard from outside, a sure sign that their target was approaching.

Sirius grinned. It had been easy enough to convince the whole of the school to participate in his plans to get revenge on the deputy Headmaster, Minerva McGonagall. After she had set another lesson into the school's curriculum and forced them to take the damn lesson, everyone had wanted a chance to 'put her in her place', as the Slytherins put it. The few first years that hadn't wanted to upset their teacher had been easy enough to convince that doing this would earn them house points.

The footsteps neared, closer and closer, until they were right outside the closed door. The big, oak door creaked open, and, as the old witch stepped in, lights suddenly flooded the room and a booming voice screamed: "IT'S JUST A JUMP TO THE LEFT!"

As McGonagall jumped back in fright, the hundreds of students that had ordered themselves into several lines, all jump to the left in sync. Several giggled hysterically, though most kept an unordinary straight face, set on revenge.

"AND A STEP TO THE RIGHT!" Following the song, the few students that could see McGonagall watched with small smirks as the witch's face flamed a horrible red.

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HIPS! AND BRING YOUR KNEES IN TIGHT!" As all the students bent at the knees, continuing the songs instructions, McGonagall's face changed from the brightest red to a deep purple as her eyes brushed the huge sign that was hung above the dancing crowd. It read: _Arithmancy SUCKS! From the humble crowd of Hogwarts and especially Sirius Black!_

Sirius felt a flash of fear as his Professor's eyes flickered to him in undisguised fury. He hadn't been able to help it, wouldn't have been able to handle it if someone else got the glory of being punished for this marvellous revenge plan, and so he had made sure that everyone knew who was responsible. Now he could see that this decision could possibly kill him, judging by the look in McGonagall's eye.

"Sirius Black!" she screamed, flicking her wand to stop the magically booming voice. The Great Hall was dead quiet. "My office, NOW!"


	3. 149

**(Harry Potter – Golden Trio Era)**

**149. I will not tell Sir Cadogan that the Knights Who Say Ni have challenged him to a duel and then have students yell "Ni" from various directions.**

"Really?" the intrigued knight asked heartily, staring wide-eyed at the Gryffindor from his painting. Harry grinned inwardly, while putting on a serious face.

"Of course, you didn't know?" he asked in mock concern, though Sir Cadogan didn't notice at all. He seemed to be deep in thought for a minute or two, before suddenly yelling (and scaring Harry in the process) "Why, those thieving scaly-wags! All those times I could'a been thrusting me knife in their belly, and I've been ignorant of the fact! I always 'spected something fishy was going on, and now I know!"

Harry grinned outwardly now, unable to contain himself. He was getting pay back, painfully easy pay back, to the Knight who had led him and his friend in the opposite direction of their class too many times to count on one hand. And all he had to do was convince the insane Knight that everyone that said "Ni" was really challenging him to a duel. While this seemed relatively tame, he had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

Sir Cadogan was distracted from his musing by Harry suddenly, as the raven haired boy made a funny movement, almost as if he was trying to put his thumbs up and scratch his nose at the same time.

Before he could comment on this abnormal move, a yell sounded through the hallway.

"Ni!"

Startled, Sir Cadogan attempted to pull his sword from his belt in quick flurry but ended up getting it caught at the hilt, cutting his finger in the process.

"Yeooowl!" he screeched, while turning in circles with wide eyes. "Where's the scurvy bathmat! I'll get him! I tell you, I'll get him!"

Starting to the left of his portrait, he had not made it three steps before a second shout joined the first from the opposite direction, quickly followed by a third, fourth and fifth. The confused and still injured Knight turned his head back and forth continuously, reminding Harry of a muggle cartoon show.

Laughing heartily, Harry left the startled Knight to his screams ("Show yourselves, you cowardly scum bags! Show yourself and face the wrath of my sword on your heels!") and left for the common room. He had convinced enough people to shout "Ni" to keep the Knight in blissful confusion for at least a few hours. Revenge was sweet.


	4. 148

**(James Potter – Marauders Era)**

**148. I am not the King of the Potato People and I do not have a flying carpet.**

James was bored. Extremely bored. So bored, in fact, that he had taken to stabbing forks into his potato's and using them as legs, walking them around the table continuously, while ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the other Gryffindors that were eating their dinner. To be honest, he was more than use to it.

A tapping on his shoulder made him turn to face Remus who was staring at him oddly. "James . . . what are you doing?"

James threw his chest out proudly, while exclaiming, "I, James Potter, am the King of the Potato People."

Sirius, who had been sipping at his Pumpkin juice idly, spluttered slightly, while Peter chocked on his carrots. The rest of the Gryffindor house had similar reaction, giggling through mouthfuls of chicken and pork. The fact that an entire house seemed to be half choking, half dying attracted the attention of the Professors, and the table was suddenly joined by a disapproving McGonagall and an amused Dumbledore.

"What seems to be the problem?" Dumbledore asked quietly, and the other three houses turned to see what on earth was happening. James, encouraged by the audience and attention, stood up and faced Dumbledore with the most serious face he could conjure.

"I am King of the Potato People," he announced loud and clear and received chocking from all of the four houses. Gosh, you'd think they'd learn not to put food anywhere near their mouth while I was talking, he thought to himself, before turning to face Dumbledore, whose lip was twitching slightly. McGonagall looked scandalised.

"Oh? And what does this position entitle?" Dumbledore asked his with raised eyebrows. James stopped to think.

"It entitles . . . eating a lot of potatoes, to stop our kingdom over populating. And me riding a flying carpet to all of my lessons, if you don't mind getting me one, Minnie," he added, winking at McGonagall. She glowered at him.

"I see," Dumbledore said, a twinkle lighting up his eyes as he observed the Gryffindor in front of him. "Why don't you take a plate of potatoes and sit outside to eat them then. I don't quite think that killing the school would help keep you potatoes population down, hmmm?"

James nodded his head in agreement, as if this was something truly important to him, and he marched out of the Hall with a plate piled with potatoes, leaving a very red faced school stuck to pat each other's back in an attempt to stop them chocking. Dumbledore shook his head with a chuckle.


	5. 147

**(Ronald Weasley – Golden Trio Era)**

**147. I will not hold my wand in the air before casting spells and shout "I have the power!"**

"Now, class, if you will turn to page 143, you will find the instructions to casting a silencing charm. Remember to swish your wand, students," Professor Flitwick explained, swaying slightly on the pile of books he was standing on in order to see over is desk.

Ron turned to Harry, hoping his best friend would save him from having to partner up with Hermione, but no, the traitor had paired with Dean Thomas with a sly wink in Ron direction.

It wasn't that Ron hated Hermione. Oh, no, he liked Hermione very much; a little too much, in fact. And that was the problem. Whenever Ron was standing near his bushy haired friend he had the instant need to impress her, which usually ended in rash behaviour, stupid jokes and a telling off from Hermione and, later on, Harry. He sighed. He wasn't going to get out of this one, and he was determined to not make a fool of himself this time.

"Ron, can you grab your book out please, mine's all smudged from where you spilt ink on it the other day," Hermione told him with a mock angered look, though the grin she wore marred it. Ron mumbled a small apology as he grabbed his book and set it on the table, flicking to the correct page.

As they started practising, Ron took the time to admire Hermione. Her bushy brown hair swept in front of her face often, and she was constantly pushing it away, only to have it fall back. Her eyes lit brightly with the thought of new information and she chewed idly on her lips while thinking. When she flicked her wrist to perform the spell she was practising, she moved fluently and smoothly, mastering the spell in just a few minutes.

It took Ron a few moments to notice that Hermione was talking to him.

"Huh?" he answered intelligently, staring like a fish at Hermione. She giggled slightly.

"I said,' you have a try'."

"Oh," he responded, and pointed his wand at Hermione nervously.

"_Silencio!" _he spoke, swishing his wand as he did. Hermione opened her mouth and . . .

"Ron, it didn't work," she sighed. "Come one, try again."

He did. Several times, in fact. He tried and tried and tried, but it wasn't working. Finally, with the added frustration of not being able to produce the spell as well as the thirsting need to impress, Ron stood, pointed his wand to the roof of the Charms room and shouted: "I have the power!" before swishing his wand down towards a startled Hermione, who immediately stopped giggling, due to the workings of the spell. But the damage was done.

The class around him was silent apart from the cackles that were coming from Harry, who was rolling on the ground. Hermione was chocking in her seat, trying to contain her silence chuckles. Ron sat and buried his head in his hands. There he goes again, embarrassing himself in front of Hermione once more.


	6. 146

**(Sirius Black – Marauders Era)**

**146. "Y'all check this shit out!" is not an appropriate way to announce  
>that you are about to perform an experimental spell.<strong>

Sirius was in a flurry. McGonagall had asked for a five foot essay on the effects of unidentified spells on magically exposed creatures, such as Owls, Toads, Rats and Cats, as was allowed at Hogwarts. Only, Sirius hadn't done it, and it was due _that day!_

He couldn't research it, no that would take far too much time and he didn't want to go to the Ravenclaw infested library anyway, they had a way of using exceptionally bad spells on him when he interrupted their peace and quiet. He also didn't want to ask Remus, as he had spent the entire week telling he had already completed the piece. And James was no help, what with the continuous and slightly stalker-ish staring that he was now doing at Lily Evans, a fellow Gryffindor.

So Sirius was left with one choice. He would have to test out an unidentified spell on one of the students' pets, and see what happened. Grabbing a passing cat off the ground, Sirius sat it carefully down on one of the couches and stepped back, watching carefully as it licked its paw.

It seemed wrong to not alert the common room that he was, in fact, about to do a spell that he had no idea exactly what would happen when cast. Thinking back, he remembered a line from one of the muggle Telefishion shows that James had made him watch, and felt that it would serve well in his task.

Throwing his arms out, he called, "Y'all check this shit out!" before sweeping his wand to point at the cat and cried a string of words that he pulled from the top of his head. A large snap was heard from around the room and Sirius was shot backwards into the wall.

Groaning, he turned his head to come face to face with an angry and unchanged cat, which was hissing profoundly. Sirius shot out of the common room as fast as he could, the cat quick in tow. The rest of the common room simply stared, wondering idly what on earth was going on. Though they had learnt not to expect an answer.


	7. 145

**(Draco Malfoy – Golden Trio Era)**

**145. It is not necessary to yell "Burn!" every time Snape takes points from Gryffindor.**

Draco Malfoy was in an exceptionally good mood. His father had informed him that he had recently sent in an order for a Firebolt 360 broom, the newest and fastest out there, his mother had sent an unusually large amount of sweets from home and Snape, his favourite Professor, was currently picking more than ever on the Gryffindor, due to the Quidditch cup they had won just days previous. Life was good.

"Five points from Gryffindor for helping Mr Longbottom, Miss Granger, he is a fifth year, now, he is more than able to perform his own potion," the greasy haired Professor snarled, and then jumped as a yell was heard from the back of the room.

"Ha, _burn!_" Draco was gleeful now. If he had calculated rightly, this was the fiftieth point he had taken of the house. There was no way Gryffindor was going to win the house cup now.

Snape spared his students a fleeting but worrying glance as he passed him, overlooking the interruption that had sounded by Draco. The reason he was worried was that Draco Malfoy had the tendency to act out of character whenever he was in a good mood, such as yelling out in class.

Snape turned around in time to find Miss Granger once again aiding the incompetent boy known as Neville Longbottom.

"Miss Granger, if you keep failing to follow my instruction I will be forced to give you a detention. Ten points from Gryffindor"

"_Double burn_!" was, again, heard from the back of the room, followed by a hysterically giggling Malfoy. _Sixty points!_ They were defiantly out of the running this time!

"Mr Malfoy, enough of this calling out," Snape informed him sternly, but Draco wasn't listening. He was too busy watching a shaking Neville add a pine needle to his potion. If I'm right, and I usually am, he thought to himself, then adding that pine needle is going to –

BANG! The sound was booming, echoing around the room as green smoke smothered the students. After five minutes the smoke finally cleared and Snape caught a glance at the boy who had caused the explosion, who was sitting in a huddle under his desk.

"Miss Granger! Why did you not stop him from putting that ingredient in the potion? I expect better of you, fifty points from Gryffindor!"

"_BURN!"_


	8. 144

**(Seamus Finnegan – Golden Trio Era)**

**144. The Whomping Willow is not an Entwife.**

Seamus was sick of the same old boring life. He did his school work, he played Quidditch in his spare time with Dean and did the essentials, ate, drank, slept. That was it. He never did anything out of line, never did anything spectacular, never felt he had made the most of his day. But that was going to change.

Brushing his hands to rid them of dirt, his scanned the grounds, looking for inspiration for what he was sure would make his day. Third year's messing around by the Black Lake, a group of first years sitting around a tree, the Whomping Willow swaying dangerously in the wind, the –

Seamus stopped to grin as an idea strung into his head. When he had been growing up, The Lord of the Rings had been his favourite Movie, and what better way to apply it than this . . .

Strolling towards the first years that sat by the tree, Seamus thought over his plan. He would have to word it perfectly to have the desired effect. When he reached them, he smiled kindly at them.

"Hey, have any of you seen Lord of the Rings?" he asked them, as they huddled together in fright at being talked to by a sixth year. One of their heads snapped up when the question registered, and a grin graced their face.

"Yeah, I know. That's my favourite movie!" the first year said excitedly, hoping up from his stop on the ground. Seamus grinned wickedly, and leant towards the boy.

"Well, did you know that the Whomping Willow," he paused in his speech to point at the said tree, "is an _Entwife_?"

The boy's eyes lit up with a cry, and his smiled full blown at Seamus.

"Wow, really? Do you think it will want a friend? Should I go talk to it?" he asked excitedly and Seamus nodded.

"I _know _it will want a friend. You should take all your other friends to, it will like that."

The boy thanked Seamus profoundly, collected his friends and bounced off in the direction of the Whomping Willow. Seamus grinned. All he had to do now was sit back and watch.


	9. 143

**(Sirius Black – Marauders Era)**

**143. I will not sing "We're off to see the wizard" when sent to the Headmaster's office.**

"Mr Black! If I hear one more word out of your mouth about that awful muggle show, you will be going straight to the Headmasters office!"

Sirius grinned at McGonagall toothily. "But Miss! All you have to do it tap your heels thrice and poof! Your wish is granted!" Growling slightly, McGonagall pointed to the door furiously.

"Out, go to the Headmasters office now!"

"Uh, uh, uh, you didn't tap your heels, Miss. You have to ta – mmmmm," Sirius started, but was cut off by a hand that slapped over his mouth tightly.

"Its fine, Professor, I'll take him," Remus told the red faced Professor in a hurry, dragging the struggling student out of the classroom and into the hallway.

After just a few steps, Sirius managed to wrestle free of Remus, and shouted back to the class, "Now you go feed those hogs before they worry themselves into anaemia, Professor!"

Remus pulled him away in time enough that they could only just hear the angered cry of McGonagall.

Remus shook his head at the grinning Gryffindor who was now skipping down the hall, merrily humming. It was all James fault. He had apparently thought that it would be an amazing idea to show Sirius the movie The Wizard of Oz, as an inside joke. Unfortunately, Sirius had taken it upon himself to spread the legend of Oz around the school. The teachers did not appreciate the effort.

Suddenly, Sirius ran back to Remus and grabbed his hand in a firm grasp. Pulling at it slightly, so that they were at skipping pace, he began to singing, "We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz!"

Remus shook his head at his friend, as he continued to be dragged down the school's halls, on the way to Dumbledore's. Or, as Sirius called him, 'The Wizard of Oz'. He needed knew friends.


	10. 142

**(Albus Potter – Next Generation)**

**142. "To conquer the earth with an army of flying monkeys" is not an appropriate career choice.**

"Students, I ask you to fill out these sheets to the best of your ability, as I need to know what you wish to accomplish in life before you sit your OWLs. You will have twenty minutes to complete it. If you finish early, quietly put it on my desk then leave the room. You may all start now."

The whole of the fifth year students shuffled to collect their sheets before taking a seat at individual desks. Albus Potter sighed as he did the same. What an outrage, a scandal, that they had a test on such a sunny day. Albus was quite ready to have a swim in the Black Lake and mess around with his best mate, Scorpius Malfoy.

After five minutes of sitting the test, which contained several easy questions about whether they were continuing their schooling after Hogwarts, Albus was finally fed up with the pointless activity. Determined to make a stand against the horrible assignment the school had provided, Albus glanced down at the next question on the sheet and grinned, certain that he could cause a stir by answering the rest of his test questions in the wackiest ways imaginable.

As he was finishing the last of his questions, students started to stream to the front of the class eagerly, dropping their papers on the front desk before hurrying outside to enjoy the weather. Albus rushed through the last few answers, before walking to the front.

He dropped his papers on the desk with a grin and a wink, before making his way to the oak doors that led outside. McGonagall narrowed her eyes. There was something about the way Albus Potter had held himself that told her something was going on. He reminded her far too much of the boys grandfather, James Potter, and this did not brood well with her.

Opening his test, the witch scanned through the questions fleetingly, before her eyes stopped on one answer. She glared.

"Albus Potter!" Albus closed his eyes. He had been hoping to at least make it outside before any of the Professors noticed his inadequate answers. Spinning around, Albus looked up at the frowning Professor with mock curiosity.

"Yes, Professor?"

"'To conquer the earth with an army of flying Monkeys' is not an appropriate career choice!"


	11. 141

**(Hermione Granger – Golden Trio Era)**

**141. I will not scare the Arithmancy students with my Calculus book.**

It was a horrible day outside. Rain splattered the grounds of Hogwarts and the wind shook the window panes of the Library, making it hard for anyone inside to concentrate very well. Not many students were in the Library when Hermione Granger walked in, all of them scattered across the school in dormitories, common rooms and, for the brave, Quidditch practise. Hermione was perfectly fine with the lack of students.

Sitting beside one of the desks near the back of the room, she set her books on the table and rummaged around in her bag for a pen and parchment. Over the summer, the young Witch had been comparing her muggle high school books to her Hogwarts books. But she had been keeping the best till last.

Taking out her Arithmancy book, Hermione leant over slightly and pulled out her Calculus book from a separate part in her book bag.

Laying the two books together on the desk, Hermione opened to the intro of each book.

Soon, after an hour or so of studying the differences of the two books, Hermione decided it was time to work on her potions essay, and moved the books to the side. A hand on her shoulder made her turn around, to find a sixth year Ravenclaw standing behind her.

"Sorry, I was wondering, could I borrow your Arithmancy book?"

Hermione smiled at the girl, and gestured for her to take the book. Returning to her essay, Hermione had a sudden thought. Looking over to her books, she let a rare smirk spread over her face. The Ravenclaw had taken her Calculus book instead of her Arithmancy book. They were sure in for a surprise when they tried to answer a question with it instead of the magically linked book.


	12. 140

**(George and Fred Weasley – Golden Trio Era)**

**140. I will not start food fights in the Great Hall. **

"This is ridiculous. We need to do something!"

"Look, I know, but what can we possibly do?"

"I don't know! There's not enough time for magic, and I don't think the professors would appreciate it if we hexed all the Slytherin's to sing Christmas carols."

"Who cares what the Professors want? That's an amazing idea! Only, do you know the spell?"

"No, do you?"

"No. Damn, this is horrible. If it continues, I might just have to start throwing things!"

"... Throwing things. That's it!"

George Weasley, while contemplated the chances of his plan actually working, gazed out over the Great Hall. The sight that met him was disgusting. Three of the houses were sitting in miserable silence, eating very little and staring in downcast at table. The other house was in uproar, screaming in joy and holding a huge cup in the air above them. This was the Quidditch Cup. And Slytherin had won it.

Fred and George were determined to lift Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's spirits.

George grinned wickedly as he lifted a plate of mashed potatoes, mumbled a "Follow my lead," to Fred before lugging the plate over the tops of heads and into the jousting crowd of green. A scream was heard just as the mass of lumpy potatoes landed onto of a group of Slytherin's heads.

Pansy Parkinson, who had gotten probably the most of the potatoes, stood up with a glare. Levitating a jug of pumpkin juice, she cursed the jug to sweep over the heads of the Gryffindors and spill its liquid over the house. The Gryffindors stood with a roar as a satisfied Pansy sat back down with a grin.

Each member of the brave house grabbed a plate of food, before chucking it full force at the Slytherins, who ducked and squealed away from the flying food.

Sensing that this would be a good time to get revenge on Slytherin for cheating their way to the Quidditch cup, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stood as well and added their own plates of food to the flying sausages, peas and carrots that filled the air.

George and Fred sat back down in their seats with identical grins. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were now all smirking and giggling at the gravy covered Slytherins. Their job was complete.


	13. 139

**(Marcus Flint – Golden Trio Era)**

**139. I will not dress up in a Dementor suit and use a Dustbuster on Harry's lips to get him to do what I want.**

Harry sat, wide eyed and frozen, as the dark shape moved towards him slowly, a strange, eerie sucking noise coming from the open hole in its mouth piece.

_Dementor_, his mind shouted, but he was completely sure that it wasn't. For one, he could see the head of a broom stick poking from under the huge sheet that covered whoever sat on it. Next, the fact that he could hear the sucking noise was a clear indication that this was not a real Dementor, as every other time he had encountered the frightful beasts, his hearing had been none existent.

Still, as he watched the flying sheet float closer towards him, he hid a smile and decided to play along with whatever trick the unintelligent Slytherins were playing.

Marcus Flint was barely able to stifle his giggles as he watched the famous Harry Potter's eyes widen in fear at the sight of his fake Dementor. It had been too easy really.

All he had done was grabbed a black sheet and a broom stick, while using a muggle invention called a 'Dustbuster' to use as the Dementor's mouth. And he had Harry at his mercy.

Floating closer, Flint let out a throaty cough and said – in what he supposed was a Dementor's voice – "Harry Potter. You are to hand over your wand if you wish to withhold a kiss from me." He was sure it was going to work. Any wizard would gladly hand over his wand if he had the choice between that and a Dementor's kiss. So he was nearly shocked off his broom when he saw what happened next.

Harry was skilled at keeping his emotions in check, years of trying to hide things from enemies and friends alike had done that to him. But this was too much.

The added combination of catching sight of the Dustbuster that was the sound of the sucking noise, and the fact that a voice that was unmistakably Marcus Flint was threatening to _kiss _him, finally snapped him.

Hunching over, Harry broke out in hysterical laughter, tears spilled down his face as he stamped his foot against the floor. Flint was shocked.

He was sure that this was not how people were supposed to react when a Dementor threatened to kiss them. Growing frustrated, Flint turned the Dustbuster up to full power and pointed it closer to Harry.

"Give me your wand!" he growled, but Harry merely laughed harder. It was unbelievable. The Slytherins honestly thought he was that thick.


	14. 138

**(Ron Weasley – Golden Trio Era)**

**138. I will not tell the first years that Professor Snape is the Voice of God.**

Professor Snape marched into the potions room, his frustration already growing beyond bearable, and it was only his second class of the day!

Severus Snape wasn't usually one for listening to school yard gossip, but it seemed that something concerning him was going around the school. He had already spotted most of the first years staring wide eyed at him, while the most of the other students had giggled hysterically at him as he passed.

Turning on his heel, Snape faced his next class, only to find a number first years gaping at him openly, while blocking the door way. He snarled.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there or are you going to sit down?"

Startled, the first years scurried to their seats, eagerly staring up at him. He sighed.

"My name is Professor Snape, and I will be your potions master throughout your seven years here at Hogwarts. Rule breakers and timewasters will not be tolerated in this class, and will simply land you a detention. Throughout your time her-"

Snape cut off as one of the first years slowly raised her hand. He closed his eyes tightly. _I will not curse the first years, I will not curse the first years, I will not curse the first years. _"What?"

"Well, sir, I was wondering. Are you really the voice of God?"

Snape eyes flew open as he stared at the first year, his mouth wide. If he was expecting anything, it was certainly not that.

"What?" he repeated suddenly, and looked around to find the first years class mates staring at him in wonder, wanting an answer to the unexpected question.

"I- what?" he repeated, completely flabbergasted. "No. What? Who told you I was the voice of God?"

"Well, sir, we weren't supposed to say," another student trailed off, looking guiltily up at his Professor. Snape growled lowly.

"Who said I was the voice of God?'

The first years squirmed uncomfortable, before one blurted out, "Ron Weasley."

Oh, that boy was nothing less than dead, Snape thought as the first years eyed his shyly, with awe mixed into the features. Dead.


	15. 137

**(Cormac McLaggen – Golden Trio Era)**

**137. It is a bad idea to tell Professor Snape he takes himself too seriously. **

Cormac McLaggen was in an exceptionally bad mood. Missing out on the position as Gryffindor's keeper had sunken his mood completely, and the fact that Hermione Granger only seemed to be cheering for Ron Weasley made it even worst.

Honesty, he thought, what was the Weasel compared to him. He was gorgeous, smart, and a much better charmer than anyone else in the school, especially _Weasley._

Walking in a huff to the dungeons, Cormac kicked open the door, knowing he was late but to frustrated to care. Thankfully, Snape wasn't in the room yet, so he made it to his desk without hassle, though his classmates did look at him strangely, most choosing to ignore the twat. Some of his more smitten admirers asked him what was wrong and offered support, but he simply brushed them off and told them to bother him another time.

Snape marched into the room soon after, informing them to read from page 548 and complete the potion there. Cormac trudged to the front of the room, collected his ingredients before sitting down and throwing them into his cauldron, not caring that his potion, after fifteen minutes, had turned a musty red and was releasing a sickly gas.

Snape marched up to him and sneered down at his cauldron.

"I suppose you thought you wouldn't read off the page then? Thought you would do your own thing? Hmm? Well, let's see. We will test out your potion on you, and see what the result is."

Several of the occupants of the room let out disgusted noises at the thought of swallowing the foul product. Cormac glared at his Professor. He was in no mood to deal with the slimy git today, and this seemed to show in his eyes. Snape smirked foully.

"Is there something you wish to say to me, Mr McLaggen?"

"Yes," he replied coldly. "I think you take yourself far too seriously."

The class around him gasped, and Snape's smirk darkened.

McGonagall was quite surprised when she walked into the potions room to find her college shoving a spoon of rotten-egg smelling liquid down a student's throat.


	16. 134

**(Gideon and Fabian Prewett – Marauders Era)**

**134. I will not teach the first years to play "The Penis Game" in the Great Hall during dinner.**

Lily smiled slightly as she watched the snow float down from the ceiling. Of course, it was fake snow, but it didn't take the magical effect away from the results. This was her first year at Hogwarts and, unable to return home for Christmas seeing as her family were away, she had stayed at Hogwarts for it, and she didn't regret the turn of events one bit.

Glancing over at her friend, Severus, she saw him wave slightly at her, before he turned back to the fourth year he was talking to, Lucius Malfoy. She then looked down the table at her fellow classmates, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. The group of boys were sitting with the well known pranksters of the school, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the muchly feared sixth year boys of Gryffindor.

Noticing that she was watching them, Sirius tossed a wink in Lily's direction, and she automatically narrowed her eyes. She knew that look, the over confident air. There was something going on.

Walking over to them, Lily walked close enough to hear one word.

"Penis." It came from James, who was smirking at Remus, who looked uncomfortable. Slightly louder than James, he too said one word.

"Penis."

For Lily's first year mind, it took her a moment to get over the inappropriateness of the word, before she worked out what was happening. She snapped into the seat beside James and glared at Sirius, who was next in line.

"Don't you dare."

Sirius grinned at her, before repeating the word louder than Remus had. "Penis!"

The group looked at Peter, who grimaced.

"Penis!"

People around them started to stare as, one by one, the word gradually got spoken louder and louder, as each boy took their turn, ignoring Lily's warnings and threats. Finally, McGonagall marched over, fuming and holding her wand out towards them furiously. Sirius, Remus and James shrunk away from her, and away from Lily's smug grin. Peter wasn't so lucky.

"PENIS!" he shouted, before catching sight of his Professors face, letting out a squeal and ducking under the Gryffindor table before the hex that was sent at him could reach its destination.

Gideon and Fabian exchanged grins. It was always fun when they angered a teacher and didn't have to suffer the punishment.


	17. 133

**(Scorpius Malfoy – Next Generation)**

**133. I am not allowed to begin each Herbology class by singing the theme song to "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes".**

"_Attack of the killer tomatoes!"_

Pomona Spout jumped slightly as a loud voice came from the open door of the Greenhouse, startling her into dropping one of the pots she was holding. She cursed as she knelt to pick it up.

"_Attack of the killer tomatoes!"_

She started again. It had to be one of the first years that were lined outside the Greenhouse, waiting for their first lesson in Herbology. Professor Sprout started towards the door, ready to take points form whichever first year thought it upon himself to scare the other children.

"_They'll beat you, bash you, squish you, mash you, chew you up for brunch! And finish you off for dinner and lunch!"_

"Scorpius Malfoy!"

Said boy jumped in surprise. He had been too busy watching the horrified faces of the first years to notice the appearance of the Herbology teacher. Tossing a grin at the red face of Professor Sprout, Scorpius sent the Slytherin first years a pointed stare, as they smirked amongst the Hufflepuffs, before taking off away from the Greenhouse.

From that day on, every class the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had with Professor Sprout, the green-dressed students came in singing; "_Attack of the killer tomatoes! Attack of the killer tomatoes! They'll beat you, bash you -"_


	18. 126

**126. I am not allowed to declare an official Hug A Slytherin Day.**

Bright green posters covered the walls of the Great Hall, hallways and classrooms alike, momentarily stunning the Professors and students as they walked into out of their dorm rooms. Giggles erupted as the posters were read and students immediately turned towards each other with wicked grins.

Sirius Black strode into the Hall a little after ten on that fine Sunday morning and smirked as he saw the posters that he had set up the night before. This was going to be great. Sitting down beside the other Marauders, Sirius immediately brought his head into their private conversation.

"McGonagall's going to kill us!" Peter exclaimed gleefully, giggling slightly. James smirked.

"When does she not want to kill us?" he asked, laughing slightly as he glanced at McGonagall's slowly-turning-purple-face as she stood in the doorway of the Great Hall.

The Marauders all laughed as they pushed themselves out of their seats and headed towards their next class.

History of Magic passed slowly – as always – before potions came. James, Remus, Sirius and Peter all grinned in excitement and bounced down to the dungeons, surprisingly the first students in class. As they sat down, a group of Slytherins walked in, looking thoroughly annoyed and a ruffled.

Sirius giggled. As more students passed through the door, giggles were heard throughout the room, as Sirius stood up and rushed to the Slytherins just as Slughorn walked in. Grinning wickedly, Sirius pulled the closest Slytherin, who just happened to be Severus Snape, and hugged him tight, pulling away just after Slughorn caught a glance.

"Well," the large man stuttered, baffled. "Well, it's great to see house promotion lads, but perhaps you should continue this after class, ey?" Stifling laughter with his palm, Sirius rushed to his seat, away from Snape, who seemed to be at boiling point.

Potions finished with only a few giggles. Walking out of the classrooms, Sirius smirked at the sight that was presented before him. Slytherins here and there were being pulled into rough, short-lasting hugs by the other houses around them. He laughed as he glanced gleefully up at the huge posters on the walls. They read:

_**JUNE 5**__**th**__** – HUG A SLYTHERIN DAY!**_


	19. 122

**(Fred and George Weasley – Golden Trio Era)**

**122. "Draco Malfoy Takes it Up The Arse" is not an acceptable Quidditch chant.**

Spinning around on his broom stick, Draco shot off towards the other side of the pitch in search of the snitch.

Below him he could hear the screams of the school, shouting their support for either Slytherin of Hufflepuff, though it was obvious who was going to win at the score of 180 – 20 to Slytherin. Still, Draco wanted to finish the game as soon as possible. He was in an awful mood that day – already managing to get three detentions, lose fifteen points for Slytherin, and be in Snape's bad books after letting it slip that he had taken from his store room.

As he sped past the Gryffindor section of the stands, he heard his name mentioned among the crowd, which was followed by a shatter of laughter. Deciding he didn't care what anyone from such a lowly and unworthy house – and ignoring the fact that he did care indeed – he started for the other end of the pitch, in high hopes the game would end soon.

Down in the Gryffindor stands, the Weasley twins were standing on their chairs eagerly, surrounded by the whole of Gryffindor house and chanting a simple song that was soon being caught on and spread, soon inviting all those who could hear to sing along. Fred laughed heartily as he sang.

"_Draco Malfoy takes it up the arse! Draco Malfoy takes it up the arse! Draco Malfoy..."_

As the chant got louder and louder, Draco suddenly caught on to the lyrics, and was momentarily stunned until a flash of gold was seen out of the corner of his vision. He smirked.

The last thing anyone heard of that Quidditch game was the roar of Slytherin (far out weighing the inappropriate chant), the shouts of Fred and George Weasley's anger and the commentary of Lee Jordan, who screamed: "And Draco Malfoy take the snitch, winning the game at the score of 330 -20 to Slytherin!"


	20. 113

**(Harry Potter – Golden Trio Era)**

**113. My name is not "The Dark Lord Happy-Pants" and I am not allowed to sign my papers as such.**

"I'm really becoming worried, Hermione."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly before opening them to glare at Ron, who was looking at her seriously.

"Honestly, Ronald, I'm sure everything is fine with Harry. You only gave him a small dose anyway. It will have faded by now. And besides, the worst thing he could have been doing was shaking Malfoy's hand. No harm done in that, unless he did it in a secluded dungeon room where no one else but Crabbe and Goyle was there. And I doubt that happened," she told him in one breath and looked back down at her book. She only glanced back up when she noticed that Ron hadn't replied to her, and she was startled to see a guilty expression on his face.

She narrowed her eyes.

"What did you do?"

Ron looked down at the ground, avoiding Hermione's stern gaze. "I may have ... gave him a ... few ... more drops of the Happy Serum than I should have," he confessed. Hermione sighed.

"How much more?"

"Well, we were only meant to give him four drops right? Well, I might have given him ... twelve." Hermione let out a strangled cry and rushed out the Gryffindor portrait hole in a quick flutter. Ron sprinted after her.

"I'm sorry! I wasn't listening! I'm sorry!"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Harry was skipping through the corridors merrily, humming a Christmas tune at the top of his voice. He was feeling wonderful, completely free and bubbly, like no one could stop him. Already, he had hugged several Hufflepuffs, shaken hands (or rather tentacles) with the Giant Squid and confessed his love to Professor McGonagall (who had been too shocked by the wet kiss that had landed on her cheek to chase after him and demand an explanation). As he continued down the corridor, laughing happily, he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders by a greasy haired Professor. Harry grinned up at him.

"'Ello Professor! Isn't it a lovely day?"

Snape raised an eyebrow at the shining boy, but merely sneered at him.

"Potter. Since you have enough time to dilly-dally around the school grounds singing, I am assuming you have completed the assignment I set you?" he demanded, holding out his hand. He was surprised when Harry let out a gleeful yelp and started digging around in his bag.

"Here you are, Professor. Enjoy!" He smiled once more at the stunned potions teacher before continuing his skipping, glad that he had finished his assignments just minutes ago. He was suddenly called back.

"Potter, you must have mistaken me. I asked for a four foot essay on the effects of Dragon Blood, not a hundred and one things you want to do to Ginny Weasley. Not only is this inappropriate, I am quite certain that your name is not The Dark Lord Happy Pants."

Harry frowned. "But, sir, if you look inside the essay you will find the list of effects of Dragon Blood _among _the list of things I want to do with Ginny Weasley. I decided for a different approach at my essays!" he explained, grinning happily and missing the dark and suspicious look that Snape was sending him. He became suddenly serious.

"And, sir, my name is The Dark Lord Happy Pants. I adopted the name after You-Know-What's-His-Face was defeated and it made me happy. It seemed fitting." Harry shrugged once more, before turning away from Snape again and skipping off.

Ron and Hermione skidded around the corner of the hallway to see a humming Harry getting further away from them, leaving a gaping Snape behind. Hermione turned to point a finger at Ron.

"I hope you know that I'm blaming you."


	21. 9

**(Sirius Black – Marauders Era)**

**9. I will stop referring to showering as "giving Moaning Myrtle an eyeful".**

Sirius crouched down slowly, eyeing his prey soundly. Leaning forward, he focused more steadily on the moving lump of pillows before letting out a huge war cry and leaping from his bed to land on the pillowed creature.

"Ah, ugh,Sirius! Get the – ow! – hell off me!"

Sirius snickered, ignoring the voice completely and continued lying across its stomach. Struggling to remove the mound of pillows atop of him, Remus managed to push himself into a sitting position, and he glared down at the shaggy haired boy that was now lying face down across his legs.

"Just for _once _I wanted to sleep in, but _you-_" Remus jabbed his finger into Sirius' ribs, smirking as the boy let out a satisfying squeak, "just had to wake me up. It's a Sunday, for goodness sake!"

"But, Remmy!" Sirius groaned, looking up at the boy in what he thought was a very good impression of puppy dog eyes. Remus just thought he looked slightly constipated. "You _did _sleep in! It's ten thirty all ready and we _have _to go down for brunch! We're going to miss brunch!"

Remus, despite himself, laughed. The mismatched, shaggy-haired, lazy, food obsessed Gryffindor always did manage to make him laugh with his immature behaviour. Sirius noticed that he had finally broke through Remus' boundaries and jumped up and down on the bed, ignoring Remus' yelp of pain as he landed rather ungracefully on his leg.

"Now, get up, get up, get up!" Sighing, Remus removed the blanket from him and stood up, stretching soundly. He tossed a sly grin at Sirius, as he walked towards his trunk.

"You're going to have to wait a little longer, I'm afraid, Sirius," he told the boy. "I'm going to have a shower before brunch."

Instead of the moaning and begging he was expecting, Remus noticed that the black-haired boy hid a large grin, before nodding soberly at him.

"Ah, I see. You're off to give Moaning Myrtle an eyeful."

Remus choked slightly, before glaring at the boy and sighing. Sirius knew just how frightened Remus was that one of the ghosts would spy on his while showering. Bloody bastard.

"Maybe I'll wait until after brunch, then."

_**A/N: Ah, okay, I'm not too sure about this one. But oh well. Hope you enjoy and I'd like to thank all my reviewers and all the people reading my story. So thanks. **_


	22. 30

**(Sirius Black – Marauders Era)**

**30. Remus Lupin does not want a flea collar.**

**A/N: the Christmas carols aren't mine. Neither is HP, by the way. **

"_Frosty the pervert in a trench coat he did go to a the school yard to expose his __-"_

"Sirius! Do _not _finish that song!"

Sirius grinned hugely at his best friends, as he continued to jump up and down atop of Peter's sleeping form.

"_Dashing through the bush in a rusty Holden ute! Kicking up the dust Esky in the boot!"_ Sirius stopped suddenly, and his friends let out a relieved sigh, thinking that he had finally stopped his antic, over-joyous behaviour (a farfetched idea, they knew, but it was far too early in the morning to be rationally).

Dashing their hopes, Sirius suddenly sprang forward onto James' bed, landing on his back as James let out a strangled "Oof!"

"Jamsie boy? Jamsie! What's an Esky?" Groans were heard from around the room, before Remus' head was suddenly seen from beneath his bed sheets.

"Sirius, it is way too early to have to deal with you. Go back to bed!"

"But Remmy! It's Christmas! We have presents! You have presents! I have presents! Hell, even Peter has presents! Now, Wake. Up!"

Remus let out a hurried yelp and scrambled out of bed and onto the floor just as Sirius pounced onto his sheets. Sirius grinned toothily down at Remus. "I got you something!"

Remus moaned softly, slamming his hands over his eyes, knowing he was going to be attacked, bitten, slapped or possibly killed by whatever Sirius had gotten the werewolf. His eyes twinkling, Sirius handed Remus a small box wrapped in purple tissue paper, before backing away slowly. James glanced up from his spot on the bed, wondering what on earth Sirius could have given Remus that would require him backing away, and knowing that he was going to get a laugh out of it and possibly have to pull Remus away from Sirius to stop him strangling the boy.

Remus cautiously opened the box, glancing inside carefully. As he caught sight of the object inside of the box, his face turned red and he turned to glare at Sirius, who cackled gleefully before sprinting out the door, followed closely by a growling Remus.

James hurried out of bed and looked inside the box, letting out a chuckle as he saw the flea collar inside.

_One day, that boy is going to get himself killed, _he thought to himself as he hurried out of the dorm to restrain Remus from Sirius.


	23. 42

**(Peter Pettigrew – Marauders Era)**

**42. "42″ is not the answer to every question to the O.W.L.'s.**

"Begin."

Peter started chewing on the end of his pencil nervously as everyone around him bent their heads over their sheets of paper and began working. His hands started shaking.

He knew staying up last night was a bad idea, but really, what was he suppose to do? It had been Remus' last transformation for the month, and he and the boys had, despite Remus begging them to stay behind and study for their O.W.L.'s, change into their Animagus form and roamed the streets with him. The next morning, this morning, they were buggered.

But at least the other two, Sirius and James, had studied. Peter had been putting off studying for the whole of three months now, his plan being to cramp as much as he could into his head the night before the O.W.L.'s. Only, of course, that couldn't happen.

In a flurry, and noticing those around him had been writing for a while now, Peter started to flit through the questions.

_When did Wilba Wenslyton supposably finish her eighth exhibition of the Beethidon region?_

_1899_

_1976_

_1798_

_1842_

_1289_

_1865_

Who the heck is Wilba Wenslyton? He thought to himself, before glancing at the answers, a satisfying smile crossing his face. Of course! One of the answers, answer _d _to be specific had reminded him of his lucky number. Number 42! If he answered every question with 42, he was sure to luck out and ace his tests!

Grinning, Peter finished his tests easily, eager for the next one. Oh, his mother would be so proud when she saw the series of 'Outstandings' on his results.


	24. 96

**96. I will not follow potions instructions in reverse order just to see what happens.**

Lily sighed again as she stood by her cauldron, waiting for Slughorn to give them the all-clear to start working. This had to be the only potions lesson that she truly felt like skipping. They were brewing Amortentia, a potion in which Lily was thoroughly acquainted with.

Throughout the years of being chased and sort after by one known as James Potter, Lily had learnt to tread lightly he was concerned. In fact, last year, she was sure that he had poisoned her. Well, poisoned wasn't the exact terminology for it, but to Lily, poisoned sounded about right.

You see, she had woken up one bright Sunday morning to a strange feeling brewing at the bottom of her stomach. Walking down to breakfast, the feeling had been getting worst and worst until, suddenly, it hit her at full force as she glanced down the Gryffindor table at a shaggy-haired someone by the name of James Potter. While desperately fighting the urge to kiss him, Lily's mind had gone into overdrive, flitting through all the possible things that could have caused this effect on her. Her mind landed on one word; Amortentia. Angry and upset that the boy who she had gradually learnt to accept as a friend would 'poison' her, Lily had ignored everyone for the rest of the day, instead she flicked through book upon book to find out about the potion, only to find that she had none of the said effects. This was also the day that she found out she had fallen in love with James Potter.

Lily sighed as she glanced down at the ingredients list with disinterest, knowing that this potion would only give her bad memories of that fateful day. Suddenly, a wicked idea came to her mind.

What if she followed the potion instructions backwards to amuse herself? She couldn't deny the fact that she had been begging for the chance to do this just so she could discover what happens, and she found that she had a fair amount of rebellion in her stomach at the moment.

So, while carefully making sure that no one was looking at her, she started from the bottom.

However, after four of her classmates had been sent to the hospital wing with enlarged limbs, the other members of the class were busy brushing coal and deep green slim off of their clothing and Slughorn had issued her with a week's worth detention, Lily had learnt; _never _follow instructions backwards.


	25. 61

**(Scorpius Malfoy – Next Generation)**

**61. It is generally accepted that cats and dragons cannot interbreed and I should not attempt to disprove this theory no matter how wicked the result would be.**

"Scorpius, no. It just doesn't work like that!"

"But Al! Come on, how cool would that be?" Scorpius Malfoy stared of dreamily as Albus Potter shook his head. No matter how many times he told the blonde haired Slytherin, he just couldn't convince him that cats and dragons would never _ever _interbreed.

Albus took a mouthful of potatoes, as his cousin Rose sat beside them and started to pile her plate high with food. Scorpius snapped out of his daze as he noticed her.

"Maybe-"

"No, Scorpius, I'm quite sure that if cats and dragons could interbreed, they would have done so already," Rose cut across him smartly, rolling her eyes at Albus. He smiled through his mouthful. Scorpius looked crestfallen.

"Why are you guys so negative? Can't you imagine what it would be like if they could? How awesome! You'd have a creature the side of bulls with scales and paws, huge, bony wings and a long tail. How amazing." He suddenly brightened.

"Maybe, because they didn't know exactly what the effect would be, they haven't tried! Maybe we could be the first, we'd be down in history for being the first witch and wizards to discover an animal that's blood has magical properties _and _is a loveable companion!"

"Scorpius Malfoy, under no circumstances is that going to happen! Dragons are about a million times bigger than cats, so even if anyone was stupid enough to try, the cat would just get crushed! _It wouldn't work!_"

Rose felt a moment of guilt for the blonde boy, as she saw the look of utter disappointment cross his face, but then Scorpius' face spread into a smile.

"Maybe-"

Albus and Rose sighed. It was no use.


	26. 56

_**(Albus Potter – Next Generation)**_

_**56. I will not refer to Kingsley Shacklebolt as a "Big Black Sex Auror".**_

There was a scuffle, there was a bang and then, lastly, there was a crash. Scorpius looked up gingerly to find Albus potter sprawled out beside him, hosting a steadily growing head. Scorpius cursed, and quickly counter cursed the spell he had cast when he thought he was being attacked and helped the Potter into a sitting position.

"Albus Potter, what the _hell _are you doing? You can't just go jumping on people in the middle of the night!" Scorpius yelled, throwing a pillow at his best friend, smirking when he heard a muffled thump as it hit target. Albus threw the pillow off of him in a fluent movement and tackled Scorpius back onto the bed, rambling rapidly. Scorpius rolled his eyes and tipped the black haired boy off of him and onto the floor.

"What do you want?" he said in resignation, rubbing his eyes gingerly. Albus sat up quickly and grabbed the front of Scorpius' pajamars.

"They got Rose, they got Rose!"

Scorpius sat up hurriedly, once again sending Albus to the floor.

"What? Who got Rose? What?"

Albus took a big breath. "Well-Rose-and-I-were-creeping-down-to-the-kitchen-because-you-know-how-she-is-when-she-doesn't-get-her-evening-snack-anyway-we-were-walking-down-when-we-got-caught-by-Filtch,-the-prick,-and-he-took-us-to-McGonagalls-but-I-ran-away-because-McGonagall-scares-the-shit-out-of-me-and-just-as-I-was-turning-the-corner-I-saw-that-Auror-taking-Rose-by-the-arm-and-leading-her-away-and-he-got-her!"

Albus groaned in frustration as he saw Scorpius' blank face staring down at him from the bed. "The Big Black Sex Auror got her!" And that was the end of Scorpius.

With something that sounded very much like a very unmanly giggle, Scorp threw himself under the blankets, all the while making choking noises. Albus cried in anger. "What are you doing? Why are you laughing when Rose is probably being expelled by the freaking Big Black Sex Auror! You know what he record is like, there is no way they wouldn't – _why are you still laughing?"_

_{Ah, I enjoyed writing this one. It's great to be back, and I hope to get right back into writing now that I have a computer. – Catch A Drop Of Rain }_


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